


A Risk Worth Taking

by NotQuiteHumanAnymore



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Jokes, Blink and you miss him., M/M, Secret Admirer, impulse shopping, the OC is there for .3 seconds.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 13:35:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12036969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotQuiteHumanAnymore/pseuds/NotQuiteHumanAnymore
Summary: I'm a sucker for Secret Admirer AUs, okay? This is that.





	A Risk Worth Taking

At first, it was a joke at his own expense. Naturally, he didn't expect John to  _like_  the gift, but...

"I saw this and thought of you," was becoming a pretty critical condition in Bobby's day-to-day life, at least when it came to John. 

And they were flowers that could be set on  _fire_. How could Bobby resist that?

This wasn't the first thing that Bobby had caved into getting for John, but it was the first thing that could be labeled as explicitly romantic. But only if John read into it. Which he would, because he was  _John_. 

So while the leather bracelets and dumb tie-dye bandanas had all been handed to John with an over the shoulder smile or tossed to John with a nonchalant flick of his wrist, the flowers got left on the kitchen counter. 

With a note.

A note that Bobby had  _forgotten to sign_. 

He watched for John's reaction, his heart in his throat, terrified that John would figure out it was Bobby anyway and poof, that would be it. But it didn't happen.

"Light 'em up!" The note without Bobby's signature read, with the attached "how to safely set on fire" instructions card paperclipped to the bottom. 

He watched as John took the note and set it carefully off to the side. 

"I think I've read about these," John said, and there, there was the light in John's eyes that Bobby lived for. Bobby watched, moving an inch closer as John enveloped his fingertips in flames, drawn to his friend like a moth, reveling in the warm light that was close enough to warm him to his bones. And that took some doing. 

And John winced and touched a quaking fingertip to the buds of the flowers before him. 

A cloud of flame erupted around the stalk, leaving the flower intact in it's wake. John's face lit up and Bobby felt half the tension leave his shoulders. 

"This is the coolest thing ever," John's voice was practically a giggle as he went around the bouquet and carefully repeated the gesture, lighting stalk after stalk aflame. Bobby leaned against the counter, allowing a smile to maneuver across his features as he watched his friend. 

"I wonder who sent them," John asked later, and Bobby almost, almost told the truth. But... there was something in John's face that terrified Bobby. He didn't want to read into it, he didn't want to ruin this moment. He didn't want to lose John.

Logically, he knew better than that. He knew John wouldn't laugh at him, or  _do_ anything to make Bobby feel terrible about himself, about how he felt, but-

He panicked.

"Maybe you have a secret admirer?" He suggested, knowing it was both the truth and a bald-faced lie. His admiration for his friend was no secret, but even he couldn't deny there was more to it than that. The sort of more to it that drove him to buy his friend flowers and think about what he would do if John reacted positively to finding out the flowers were from Bobby. John's face was inscrutable.

"Huh," John said, "That'd be  _cool._ "

And Bobby spiraled.

Who could blame him, really, when he got to see John react to his gifts without fearing John would understand what Bobby was afraid to admit?

But there was no denying it, anymore.

There was no denying that the reason he sought John out had moved from being the only person Bobby could feel warm and safe around (which, in hindsight, was telling in and of itself) to seeking out John's company to bask in the light of his smile, to feel his heart leap at any sort of contact John initiated, to simply be around him whenever he got the chance. There was no denying that Bobby yearned to reach out to his friend, to hold him close, to- completely and thoroughly ruin their friendship, if he leapt without being certain that John felt the same. 

He couldn't stop himself from leaving the gifts, though.

He couldn't make himself draw back and take this away from John, to reveal that it was nobody special, just him. Plain old Bobby Drake.

He left the gifts, and he left notes, little pearls of truth hidden inside, in the hopes that John would put it together and tell Bobby to just stop dragging his feet already. 

He couldn't stop the jokes, either. He sent John a bottle of hot sauce (the fancy kind, imported from Australia that John pretended to like more than he really did, because John was actually a wimp when it came to spicy food), with a note that read "you light a fire in my belly." John had laughed and sealed the deal on the fire puns. 

And, well, he had to give John fire-themed gifts to go with the puns, that was just a given. 

The candles ("Won't you light my candle?" What, Bobby has an absolutely healthy admiration for theater. Okay, Kitty made him watch it, but he did have a healthy admiration for Adam Pascal.) were received with an eye roll, but Bobby knew John liked candles, for whatever reason. The lava lamp ("you might not lava me, but I think you're pretty groovy!" What? Lava puns were hard.) went on John's nightstand, and Bobby got a swell of pride and happiness every time he saw it. 

It was in the soft glow of that same lamp that Bobby wished, every night, that he could just tell John.

And then someone else did it, instead.

Someone, and Bobby didn't know him, hadn't been there when it happened, or he would have  _immediately_  called the man a liar, had told John that he'd been the one sending him gifts. 

And Bobby would have set the record straight, but John looked happy. 

He couldn't just deny John happiness, even if it meant John wouldn't ever know that he was the one sending him personalized gifts, with personalized puns. 

"I've got to admit," John said quietly, his voice echoing in the darkness of their room, the dim glow of the lava lamp between them the only thing shedding light in the pair of them. "I'm a little disappointed. I like him and all, but I thought it was-" John paused, just long enough to be slightly suspicious. Bobby didn't notice. "I thought it was someone else."

Bobby was a coward. He never signed his name to the gifts, so he couldn't dispute "Michael" being the sender, not really. He didn't know Michael well enough to warn John away. He was a coward. He couldn't tell John that Michael was lying, not without admitting that he knew. That he'd always known. Because that would mean admitting that he'd gone and fallen in love with John. 

"You like him," Bobby parroted, "that's what matters, right?" he sounded robotic, at least to his own ears. He hoped John wouldn't notice him faking this, faking being a good friend, a good wingman.

"I hope that's enough." John admitted, rolling over so that he was facing Bobby. "But," He amended, "What if I knew that I liked someone else more?" Bobby cracked a smile. 

"Jesus, it's like we're in high school all over again. Just play a love song outside of their window, Allerdyce. That works every time." John laughed, a little too loudly for the dark room. "Do what you feel like doing. If you like Michael, don't second-guess yourself. If you like this other person, take the risk, if it's worth it." 

John didn't respond, so Bobby felt comfortable in his decision to roll over and fall asleep, feeling immensely sorry for himself. 

His dreams gave him the response he knew John would never actually give him:  
"You're worth it."

 

He didn't remark, the next day, on the fact that John was wearing (almost exclusively) things that Bobby had given him. Not Secret-Admirer-Bobby, either, these were all things Bobby had given John personally.

A bandana wrapped around his forehead was unfortunately tie-dyed, two of the bracelets that Bobby kept impulse buying (at John's favorite store. The one that only sold the bracelets and other similar things), and the dumb fake shark tooth necklace that Bobby had gotten for John at the aquarium the first time they'd hung out as friends (because John was Australian, but he didn't even have a shark-tooth necklace? That was an affront to all of the Australian television characters ever created). 

God, that had been so long ago. Bobby felt immediately inclined to go and get him a new one. 

But that probably wasn't a good idea, anymore. 

"How do I look?" John asked, and Bobby had to pretend that he hadn't been affected at all. 

"Snazzy," John made a face. "You look fine, man. As long as he's not taking you to the opera, you'll be fine." Bobby didn't remark on the fact that John wasn't wearing his "date" jeans, or  that his flannel shirt wasn't showing his full potential. It was the one that hugged his shoulders nicely, but hung a little too long in the arms, and he wasn't even bothering to roll up the sleeves.

What was the point of having such nice arms if he  _didn't roll up his sleeves_?

This was John-on-a-blind-date behavior, not John-is-really-excited-about-this-Michael-guy behavior. 

And Bobby wouldn't read into it, if he didn't have several years of experience reading John's nonverbal cues. 

He hooked his arm over the back of his desk chair, wondering if he was going to need to move rooms at some point in the near future, and let his eyes linger on John's face. 

"Is everything okay?" He asked, and John crumpled, pitching himself forward onto Bobby's bed. 

"Is it that obvious?" He asked, his voice muffled by the comforter blocking his face. 

"You do look fine, but you're not dressing to impress, dude," He tacked the last word on there to cement his position as best friend. Wingman for all time. And to get used to the idea of John as his  _bro_. 

Just his bro.

No more flirting, no more anonymous gifts, no more hinting that he might, just maybe, feel  more than friendship for John. John was going to date this Michael guy, and Bobby needed to take a step or two back. 

John groaned, an exaggerated noise that Bobby almost,  _almost_  made fun of. But he was being nice, today.

"You're right," John said, throwing himself back up onto his feet.

"Always am."

"I'm self sabotaging." John marched back over to his closet, tearing his shirt up over his head as he went.

Bobby, being a  _very good friend_ , averted his eyes, pretending to turn back to his reading. He didn't take in a single word, but he also didn't let his eyes waver.

"Better?" John asked, after a moment.

Bobby tried not to react. He had plenty of practice, there. 

John had changed into his "date night" jeans, (a fact that Bobby resented, more than a little, and not just because they made it very hard not to stare) and a tight fitting black shirt that Bobby was 90% sure was actually his.

The bandana around his head hadn't gone anywhere, and Bobby snorted, standing. 

"C'mere," He said, beckoning John closer. John came forward obligingly. With deft fingers, Bobby pulled the bandana from John's forehead, snickering at John's mess of hair as he did. Instinctively, because this is what their friendship was, a closeness that couldn't be readily defined, he reached out and smoothed John's hair back, drawing his fingers through it again and again, until he had made a small amount of difference with John's wild hair.

He felt John's hand slide up to grip his waist. His hand, as it always was, was hot, burning through Bobby's shirt and against his skin. He fought to keep his own body temperature regulated. If he freaked out now, he'd frost over, he'd give himself away. 

He might just let himself do something stupid. 

Bobby made another pass through John's hair, surveyed his work and dropped his hands. He didn't step back. He let his hands rest gently on John's shoulders as he waited, daring himself or John to make a move. 

John moved. 

He slid his hand from Bobby's hip to the small of his back, bringing his other hand to brush his fingertips along Bobby's cheekbone. 

They  _burned._

Bobby hadn't felt this warm since before his powers developed. 

_'If there's a god,'_ Bobby thought,  _'then let me have this,'_

A knock sounded at the door.

Of course.

"Hey, John?"

Michael.

It  _would_  be Michael. 

Bobby remembered what he'd been doing, and moreover, he remembered  _why_. 

"You have a date," He reminded himself quietly. John didn't break eye contact. Neither of them moved.

Michael knocked again.

"I have a date," John parroted. Bobby twitched his lips into a smile. He slid his hands off of John's shoulders and pushed him towards the door.

"You look great." He said, false cheer in every letter. As John slipped away, Bobby fought to keep his face neutral.

He'd never felt so cold.

"Have fun!" He chirped, his voice shaking in his throat.

He turned back to his desk, away from the door. He heard John open it and slip through. He heard Michael call a quick "hey, Bobby!" and reflexively lifted his hand in a wave.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, focusing on not screaming, not following John, not losing control and freezing the entire mansion.

He froze the chair he was gripping for dear life, instead. He went back to his beginners control exercises, freezing and unfreezing the chair to prove to himself that, at least, he could still do that.

So he had no idea how long he'd been forcing back the frost spreading from the desperate tears in his eyes to the tips of his fingers.

But the door opened again, and he had just enough time to retract the ice formations from the back of the chair before John walked in. 

Bobby shot a look at the clock, shocked to find that the eternity he'd spent shoving away his emotions had elapsed in the course of ten minutes. 

"Hey," Bobby said, trying for nonchalant. His voice crackled slightly, the result, he knew, of frozen vocal chords. "Aren't you supposed to be on a date?"

"I am," John confirmed. He looked at Bobby hungrily, like he'd expected Bobby to be gone. It wasn't like Bobby lived in the same room he did, or anything. Bobby stood straighter, trying to get the frost to recede from his fingertips at the very least. He didn't want his feelings to be noticeable, didn't want them frozen into his skin. 

"So?" Bobby asked, hoping to get John to stop standing there, to stop staring at Bobby like he was the sun, and John was determined to go blind. 

"So I couldn't stop wondering," John stepped closer, his eyes burning. Bobby loved that look, it was a look that had gotten him in  _a lot_  of trouble in the past. He felt his heart rate kick up a couple of notches. His face felt stiff and he realized he was still frosting over. "What the hell just happened, here."

John was in his personal space again. He reached out and brushed his fingers across Bobby's knuckles. His fingers seared as they moved across Bobby's frozen skin, but it didn't hurt. The way John burned never seemed to hurt him, it just balanced him out.

"What do you mean?" Bobby asked, trying his best to seem unaffected.

"I think, John murmured, close enough to be heard despite Bobby's thundering heart, "that I almost kissed you." Bobby's heart stopped, his eyes going wide, warmth sliding down his frozen nervous system at the thought. John brought his other hand over to cup Bobby's cheek. He could feel the frost receding where John touched him, "and I think you almost let me." 

"You've got me, there," Bobby rasped, his voice still raw from freezing over. John grinned, his skin seeming to warm even further. Or maybe he was getting closer? Yeah, that could have been it. Bobby couldn't quite tell, but either way he loved that smile.

"No, I've got you  _here_." John said, "And I've got to admit, this is much preferable." He leaned away, his eyes flicking to the window and, um,  _no_? "Although," John said, as if this was a thought just occurring to him, even though Bobby knew better, he  _knew_  that look. "I do have a full date planned out for tonight." He batted his eyelashes at Bobby, as if he could convince Bobby of some sort of innocence. "It'd be a shame to let that go to waste." Bobby rolled his eyes. 

"That would be a shame." He agreed. John turned a small smile on him that Bobby had seen countless times before. He grinned back, realizing that he was seeing it for what it was for the first time: Clearly smitten.

John swooped forward and pressed his lips to Bobby's, wrapping his arms around Bobby and pulling him soundly closer. Bobby's heart shuddered in his chest, before starting back up again at a gallop. He felt the frost melt from his lips, from his eyelashes. He'd never felt so warm, so  _safe_. When John pulled away this time, Bobby felt cold in the absence of his warmth, but not frozen. John took his hand, laced their fingers together, his eyes alight with a happiness that Bobby knew was reflected in his own face. John pulled him forward and through the door. 

He didn't let go nearly all night, holding Bobby's hand under the table at the ridiculous sports bar that had wings John swore by, the one with the bartender who could be bribed with a sweet smile to put on the one ESPN-knockoff channel that played cricket. Holding his hand as they walked to the movie theater, Bobby's mouth burning the whole way there, not from the hot wings, but from the kisses that John would stop and steal at crosswalks and between streetlamps. He didn't let go through the cheesy vampire love story that John rewrote under his breath, whispering a coherent plot to Bobby in the soft darkness of the theater, his fingers dancing along Bobby's palm, his thumb tracing patterns onto the back of Bobby's hand. 

He didn't let go the entire way back to the mansion.

"You know," Bobby said, long before the mansion was in sight, "I have something to confess."

"Hmm?" John asked, focused on swinging their hands between them. Bobby smiled, feeling slightly silly and loving every second of it. 

"I'm your secret admirer. Surprise!" Bobby used his free hand to do a poor rendition of Jazz hands, a little worried about how John would react. John giggled.

"Bobby, you know we share a room, right?" Bobby blinked.

"Well, yeah?"

"So you're aware that when you buy things and leave receipts on the desk,  _I can see them_ , right?" Bobby felt his face flush. 

"Oh my god," He moaned. John's giggles devolved into full blown guffaws.

"That's why I was so confused when Michael told me! I kept expecting him to come clean, but he kept lying, which was a big red flag," John said when he calmed down, "And I kept wanting you to to tell me, too. When I realized it was you, I really wanted to demand an explanation, too. But I figured, I'd rather keep pretending you liked me than have to accept you were doing it as a gag."

"Not a gag!" Bobby protested. "It made you happy. I really liked getting to give you things that made me think of you, and I liked seeing whether or not you liked them, and I liked knowing that I could make you happy, even if I never really thought I'd tell you it was me." John squeezed his hand, a smile that was the barest upturn to the edges of his lips gracing his face. "I just didn't want you to be disappointed when you found out I was the one sending you things. Like, it's not an exciting mystery if it turns out it's just your friend."

"Well, you're not just my friend, Bobby. You're my  _best_  friend. There's a difference." John squeezed his hand, raising their joined fingers to eye level between them. Well, to Bobby's eye level. John still had a few inches on him, damn him. "And I'd hope that you were a bit more than that, after tonight." Bobby pressed a kiss to the back of John's hand. It was  _right there,_ after all. And this was a date, he could do that sort of thing, right? The blush that rose in John's cheeks said yes. Bobby looked at that expression and realized that he could be brave. He could do that for John. 

"I am." He confirmed. "But don't think I'm going to stop impulse buying you random shit just because I'm dating you, now." John's face went slack and a little awed at the word 'dating.'

But as he wasn't Bobby, he got over that pretty quickly. Bobby was still reeling a little. 

"I wouldn't dream of stopping you. You have to up your pun game though, Bobby."

"Ugh, everyone's a critic." Bobby sighed, his heart lighter than it had been in years.

**Author's Note:**

> Their second date is to the aquarium, sorry I don't make the rules. :/
> 
> Anyway, I loved writing this so much! I will probably write more allerdrake soon! Come pester me @scarletwix


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